


Entrance to Eden

by Chasethemorning



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10373853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chasethemorning/pseuds/Chasethemorning
Summary: Year 2029. "Eden", Saskatchewan, Canada.Don't read until you see Logan.





	1. Chapter 1

They poisoned the water and the food to rid the world of mutants. Mutant birth rates declined. And if a mutant child was born, they didn't live very long. Infant Mortality rates increased, then leveled out. But in that HYDRA lab masquerading as a hospital, they created them. It was genetic alteration, ensuring the monopoly on mutant people as a weapon of war. 

 

After Westchester, after Xavier's psychic seizure injured 600 and killed 7 of his closest allies, there was a choice to be made. They needed somewhere to go where the government couldn't follow. Labeling Charles' brain a weapon of mass destruction was the first in a series of events to wipe them out. They needed a new location. And it needed to purposefully be slid into pop culture so that if, by chance, a mutant did survive they might have some bread crumbs to follow to get to safety.

 

Logan took Charles South. They went North. And that was that.   

 

Jean and Scott had been establishing this for so long now, years of passing the border over and over to make everything work out, to set the outpost up with the coordinates in the comic. But they never expected the population they were receiving to be militarized, milled children, bred in captivity. Implanted crudely into the ova of poor Mexican girls who had limited option on how to support their already existing families were these small beacons of hope for a new generation.

 

The women were murdered in labor, their children raised by nurses in the facility in Mexico City. They were subject to stolen Weapon-X program and experimented on under a new, more corporate name- Transigen. This  was not going to be as easy as they had initially thought, nor pleasant. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Her heart ached.

 

All other wounds besides hunger faded so quickly, and hunger was relatively easily solved, that she was not at all prepared for feelings. Besides anger and hate and physical pain Laura had very little experience in the way of feelings. Gabriela had been good to her. But she didn't even love her until they'd left Transigen before she could be put to sleep. She didn't realize she loved her friends either- Rictor, Bobby, Delilah, Charlotte, and Rebecca- until she thought may not see them again. 

 

Now she knew there were people she wasn't seeing ever again, people who were good to her, who kept her safe, sacrificed for her. That crude cross turned 'X' over the pile of dirt and rocks flashed in her mind and the anger burned through her veins. She'd go back when it was safe. Exhume the body. Professor Xavier's too. She owed them a proper burial. Hopefully Gabriela found one... hopefully someone loved her still enough to bury her somewhere people could look at her. Xavier explained cemeteries briefly in her brain when they passed one. And Gabriela had believed in God. Of them, she really needed to be in one.

 

In her head, that scene from _Shane_ replayed over and over as they almost reached the border near silently. 'Joey, there's no living with, with a killing. There's no going back from it. Right or wrong, it's a brand, a brand that sticks. There's no going back. Now you run on home to your mother and tell her, tell her everything's alright, and there aren't any more guns in the valley.' Bobby was lagging behind a bit, Rebecca and Delilah close to one another, Rictor ahead of them slightly. She looked up with big, intelligent, chocolate eyes, scanning the area as a twig snapped. Her body tensed, ready to strike outward like a snake, shifting ahead of the others, hands in tiny fists, knees bent and ready.

 

Out stepped a woman with red hair. Still guarding Rictor, everything sagged and relaxed. Charles had shown her to her. The vibrant true pomegranate color, dark stately brows, pale flesh... she slunk into Rictor's side. "Jean Grey," she told him quietly. "Jean Grey."

 

Jean's brows furrowed toward her nose as the small girl in front's mind started to shift from violence to a deep dark ache. In an instant, all the horrors in her short years quietly unfolded like laundry. "I'm here to lead you to Eden," she said quietly, her throat dry as she watched a repeat of Charles' death, then Logan's and she had to shut the connection off. "Are you Rictor?" she asked the boy closest to the front.

 

Laura could feel her in there, in her mind, like she'd felt Charles. But then she was gone.  Popped out. Like a balloon. She slunk back to Bobby, taking a deep breath as Rictor took the lead again. 

 

Slowly Bobby reached out to touch her. "Now, don't hurt me, it's just... just a hug," he said with a laugh, before his arm went around her.

 

Laura usually would tense or throw them off when they tried to touch her in any way.  But not this time.  She slid under his arm and let her eyes sag. She was too weary and exhausted to fight,  to push away. And her heart hurt so bad. She gave a choked sigh and followed the group, Bobby's arm still over her, as they followed the red haired woman into the denser wood. 

 

"Wanna talk about it?" Bobby panted after a moment. 

 

Laura shook her head from side to side and looked ahead, careful not to meet anyone's eyes. The ache deepened the more she thought about it,  about the finality of it. She looked up into the trees, then back to the others. "Look, a building," she said quietly. 

 

Ahead about fifty feet sat a warehouse style building. Bobby squinted, but then saw what Laura was talking about. Her eyesight was probably the best out of them, honestly. All those bright lights for years had affected them a bit. But not her. She healed. "That's where we're going." 

 

She nodded and gave him a rare grin before brushing his arm off. But she remained in step with him as Jean ushered them into the gate around the building. Laura pushed Bobby in before her and lingered a moment. 

 

"You're Laura, right?" Jean said kindly, looking her over.

 

Laura nodded, blinking up at her for a long moment. Charles told her to give it to her when she saw her if he wasn't with them. From her back pocket, she pulled the folded and rumpled and in places blood stained piece of paper, slipping it into her pale, yet clammy hand. She felt the intrusion in her head again and froze, tensing, unfamiliar with Jean's conscious still. 

 

"Thank you," Jean said softly, bending down and touching Laura's tight shoulders. She could feel her fighting the urge to retract from her and quickly broke physical contact, never wanting to make her uncomfortable. "And I'm sorry for your loss," she added, thinking about Logan and the memories she had of him, stepping back before giving Laura access to a few of the one's she thought she could handle. Then of Charles as well, of how he'd helped her so as a child and how he'd been there when no one else was. 

 

Laura pursed her lips, staring up at her, her heart panging like she'd just been stabbed. She breathed in and out quickly, turned, and headed into the gate before Jean could say or do anything else. She lost people who were good to her. And they'd be gone forever. There was nothing she could do to fix it.

 

And her heart ached. 

 

There weren't any more  guns in the valley.


	3. Chapter 3

'Tell her that everything's alright...'

 

Laura sat in the corner of the room, her chest rising and falling heavily. They'd given them each a room. The facility stretched underground and even though the lights weren't fluorescent like in Transigen, they were still unnatural and these cast everyone in an eery yellow hue. She had locked the door. Someone had come to try to get her to bathe and change her clothes but she didn't answer the door or unlock it. Jean had told that person to leave her be. And there were hushed whispers. And then footsteps. That was almost three hours ago. 

 

Laura assumed everyone was asleep. They'd hiked 8 miles and fought the reavers and lost Logan and they were likely tired. But Laura never required much sleep. She just looked around the room, everything so plain and almost like the hospital in a way. There were no designs on the blankets, the walls were bare, the beds were simple. She closed her eyes a moment, thinking about Charles, about watching movies, about how gentle he was to her. 

 

And she stood up. 

 

She felt her heart again, her chest tightening, her eyes starting to tear up. In Transigen, when she was this mad, feeling this much emotion at least because this was different than mad, she'd throw herself into the door and flip furniture that wasn't bolted to the floor and scream and growl and tear things to shreds with her claws. But that was then. And that was before Logan. 

 

She remembered grabbing those sunglasses and then going to hit that store clerk before Logan grabbed her and told her no. And though she really wanted to destroy something, she felt as though this was very similar to that. So she sat back down, pulling off her jacket, and urged her claws to cut through her knuckles. She looked down at her arm a moment, before using her right hand to make two thin, deep slices in the skin. The pain was searing and sharp, unlike her heart. Quick and tearing and warm. She could feel the blood drip onto her pants- hot and slick. 

The wounds closed quickly and she fashioned another set, her breathing coming quicker and harder, grunting and gritting her teeth. They healed. And she did it again. Each time she went deeper, each time there was more blood. But it didn't matter. It sealed back up. The ache started to fade out. The endorphins started to rush in. She picked herself up off the floor, pulling on her cotton candy sunglasses from her jacket pocket, then flinging it onto the bed. And she unlocked the door.

 

She took a deep breath before turning and opening that knob, half expecting someone to be waiting. But it was silent. The lights were dim. After a few steps, she toed off her maroon boots, leaving them in the hallway where they fell. Careful not to be too loud, she slunk through the hall of closed doors, assuming they were occupied. Or were supposed to be. Some of the other kids weren't so lucky. Some of them went to sleep. And now that she knew what that meant, more rage crept into her whenever the thought crossed her mind.  

 

She happened across a big space. There was carpet.  And a television. She wondered if they had Shane a moment before moving in to look at the furniture.  There was a few couches, tables, magazines... there were Spanish books. Someone was trying to learn apparently. Crayons and markers in bins with books of blank pages. Something in her wanted to knock one of them off the shelf to listen to the clatter but her desire to be alone won out. 

 

Still coated in coagulating blood, she ventured back out and down a bit farther. There were classrooms... Curiously she stepped into one, lifting her glasses. Text books and paper and desks and chairs. There were blackboards. And chalk. She grabbed a bit, messily writing 'Laura was here' before leaving the scene of the crime quickly, with a little chuckle. It felt foreign, laughing. She didn't do it much before but now it made her feel guilty.

 

Next there was a dining room it looked like.  Trapsing through,  touching the wall she pressed open the door at the end of the long table and tilted her head. A kitchen. Her stomach gave a loud growl and started to hurt immediately. She'd been hungry. And didn't know. She looked back at her fingerprints, blood and dirt streaked walls, and shrugged before slipping into the new room, door closing behind her. 

 

She went to the fridge. Milks. Juices. Fruit. Vegetables. Her nose wrinkled. She got down on the floor and started to dig through the beverage shelf until she found Cokes in the back. She pulled one out, opening it with a pop snap, and tilted her head back, pouring it in. On her second gulp she headed toward a nearby cabinet. Pots. Pans. Another cabinet of cleaners. Then another of bowls. She sat her near empty soda down and climbed up on the counter after a few more doors yielded unfavorable results. Sock covered, dirt coated feet on the counter, she pulled open a door. Cups. Full of cups. So she moved to the next. 

 

Bingo! 

 

Snack foods. Full of cakes and chips and cookies and crackers and cereal. Laura pulled down a tube of Pringles and clenched a box of brownies between her thighs. She pulled off the paper foil from the top, tossing it over her shoulder, and stood there gobbling chip after chip. She paused halfway through for a brownie, but then started in on those salty savory chips again. 

That is until there was a noise in the dining area. Slight. Like a gasp. And she tensed, raising one hand like a fist, eyes narrowed at the door as it opened. Emptying the Pringles tube into her mouth, she gave a growl, pushing her claws out. She locked eyes on the intruder, her stomach still clenching from emptiness. 

 

"This is... this..." he stuttered, taking a deep breath. "Put the junk food down and get off of that counter..." he ordered, standing taller, rose quarts visor firmly in place. 

 

Laura blinked at him, claws still out, and dropped the empty Pringles container on the floor. It gave a hollow clang as it contacted tile. She took a deep breath, turning around, watching him closely as he moved to close the fridge. She gave another growl. 

 

"Sorry... as you found out... there's no beer here or liquor in case that's what you were looking for," said Scott. He stayed out of reach of those claws, but got a closer look. "You must be Laura."

 

She felt her lip curl a moment but she urged her claws to retract. He knew her name. He knew Jean or Gabriela. She took a deep breath, throwing the brownie box onto the island across from her, then climbed to sit on the counter. Her legs started to shake and sway under her weight for a moment. She must be tired. 

 

Scott Summers watched her. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Why? Of all of them to clone... why did it have to be this one? He reached his hand out and pulled her brownie box closer to the edge for her. "Jean said you don't say much..."

Laura peered up at him and her muscles tensed again as she edged closer to the brownie box, pulling it off the counter then scurrying a few feet away from him. She ripped one open and began to gobble it, watching him from the corner of her eyes.

 

Scott relaxed back against the sink counter, just watching this girl. She acted like an animal. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with his thumbs. "You should probably eat something healthier, kiddo. Like... some fruit... or I can make you some eggs and toast..."

 

Laura growled lowly again. She blinked up at him and started on her third brownie. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, sliding down with her back to the counter. "Rockstar," she said quietly.

 

"What?" he asked, watching her in disbelief.

 

"Rockstar?" she repeated the request.

 

"No way am I getting you an energy drink at 4 am. You've lost your mind," Scott breathed. He took a deep breath, his forehead wrinkling at her. 

 

Laura shrugged and went back to the brownies, blood caked jeans and all. She felt him watching. Her hair prickled up on her neck. So she put the food down and watched him back.

 

"You look significantly more bloody than when you came in here," he observed quietly. "What happened?" He asked, tilting his head.

 

She didn't answer. Just stared, big dark eyes behind sunglasses. She took a deep breath and let it out. 

 

"Are you... hurt or something?" He asked, moving closer, bending down.

 

She recoiled a bit, watching him. Laura shook her head no. "I heal." She swallowed hard. That pang in her chest started to come back. 

 

"Of course... just like him..." he inched closer and sat on the ground across from her, watching her. "Want to talk about it?"

 

Laura just stared, pulling her knees into her chest. She shook her head no, locking her arms around them. 

 

Scott nodded. "My name's Scott," he said quietly, taking a deep breath. "Cyclops." He scooted a little closer across the cool tile. He gave a small shiver. "That must be some metabolism you have there..."

 

Laura stared up at him, her eyes trained on him. One more move and she'd give him a warning. Why was he getting so close? She leaned farther into the cabinets.

 

"Why are you awake?" he asked.

 

She shrugged. "Never went to sleep," was her answer. 

 

"Why?" he asked, his face wrinkling. 

 

She shrugged again. "Don't need to."

 

Scott tilted his head. "You aren't tired? You hiked 8 miles... and you've been through some rough stuff the past few days from what I understand," he moved closer again. Scott reached a hand out to touch her knee, but retracted as her claws flung out. "I'm sorry. I won't touch you. I'm sorry," he said, scooting over away from her a little more. "But I think you should go get a warm bath. And change your clothes. And tell me where that blood came from..."

 

Laura shook her head no slowly and stood up. She took a deep breath, her claws retracting, knuckles dripping blood onto the tile. She bit her lower lip. 

 

"What if I promise to go get you an energy drink if you take a bath and change your clothes and take a little nap?" he asked, still sitting, watching her face. 

 

"Can I drive?" she asked, blinking, straight faced.

 

"No, you can't drive," he exclaimed with a laugh, getting up. Then he looked her over again. "You're serious? Who let you drive? You're like... 8!" he continued watching her.

 

Laura felt her chest start to ache and her eyes got hot, prickly. They started to feel wet even though she fought it. She let out a choked little breath, bloody hands going to her heart. Why was she hurting? It was just him here. Was he hurting her? Should she hurt him? She shuddered, her whole body shaking, and reached each arm around herself, like holding herself together.

 

"Logan..." Scott answered his own question out loud. "Logan did?" 

 

Laura nodded, the wet droplets sliding down her tan, dirt caked cheeks. She turned away from this Scott person, heading for the door. 

 

"I'll let you... I'll let you come with me. But you can't drive..." he offered, moving to block her path. "But you need to sleep, and take a bath. And you need to give us those clothes so we can try to get the blood out," he stood in front of the exit, watching her carefully.

 

Laura looked up after a few moments of trying to stop the tears. They'd slowed at least. Suddenly she was very angry. Her breathing went ragged and her chest continued to clench harder and harder until she punched a nearby pantry door, sending her fist through it with a loud growl. 

 

Scott stepped back toward the door, hands extended outward. "Hey, hey, hey... no... you can't just... you just... you broke that." He postured himself so he was full height again. "What were you thinking? Calm down," he pulled his hands to his sides. "You can't just go around wrecking things because you're upset...because no one in their right mind would let a child drive..."

 

Her breathing grew more eratic and her body tensed and she punched through the door with her other hand to free her right with an exasperated groan. She pulled both out together and started to pull out the splinters. "Not that," she said quietly. 

 

Scott watched the wounds start to heal wordlessly and bit his lower lip. "I'm going to get Jean. I can't... I don't..." he shook his head and pushed open the door, looking at her. "Follow me... please? I can't leave you alone."

 

Laura shrugged, her chest loosening enough from the punches to calm her down. She pulled out another splinter and stepped closer to him. "Okay. Bath. Sleep. Gas station." She blinked up. "You drive." 

 

Scott looked down at her, his lips in a straight line, jaw setting, then slacking. Setting, then slacking. Then he nodded. "Yea. Okay. Okay. Just don't punch anything else, kid. Anything else?"

 

She reached into her back pocket, pulling out the thing that Nate had given her before... she felt her chest start to tighten again. "Charge?" Her voice crackled and croaked, sounding unfamiliar.

 

Scott took the IPod from her and looked at the charging port. "I think I have one that might fit. If not, I'll find one." He looked her over again. "Let's get started..."

 


	4. Chapter 4

Her veins were on fire, her eyes burning like the summer sun in the dessert, but every struggle against him just tightened the vibranium bracer bar and curled her farther in on herself. She was thrashing as much as she could, the ring tightening around her neck, trying not to look, not to watch. She didn't want to see it again. She'd already viewed the replay too many times. 

 

Violence is a brand. 

 

In her dream she was restrained, but in real life she was squirming across the bed, flopping like a fish out of water. While there wasn't much of an agenda for their first day besides to get to know each other a bit, Jean had come to check on Laura. Everyone else was awake already and active, and Scott refused to come in after he had explained last night. Jean stood by, trying to get a lock on Laura's mind but all she could hear was pain and hurt and rage.

 

As the film started over again, Laura glared up at the reaver who had her bound. She tried to force it off but couldn't and this movie was the worst one yet. She fought and groaned and grunted. With the sound of metal on metal her claws jerked out and she desperately tried to dig them into the man in the room, watching that clone taking on Logan in the film once more. She screwed up her eyes and started to scream.

 

"No, no, no!" She bellowed out loud. Her voice was choked with sobs. "Daddy! No. Daddy. Daddy..." 

 

Suddenly the film she was being forced to watch paused. The red haired woman stood in front of the television. But Laura still thrashed, trying to find a way to stab herself to make it end. The restraint protected her from harming herself. Her eyes were wet again.

 

Jean was too overwhelmed by the anguish initially to help. But real life Laura was screaming and her claws were out and she was afraid she might hurt herself if she let the dream continue. Once she saw what it was after battling through the emotional barrier into her subconscious, she couldn't blame Laura. And she needed to make it stop. 

 

"Hey... why don't you put your claws away," she said gently. "This is only a dream, but if you tell me how, and you put your claws away, I'll let you out of that thing," her voice was soft. Melodic. Inviting. She thought back to her youth, to Charles helping her out of her nightmares this very same way. 

 

"I... can't," struggled Laura. She gave a grunt, ending on a higher tone, still fighting. 

 

"You can... I'll help you out. Then we can talk," Jean watched from a safe distance. "Come on, put the claws away... just pull them back in..." The redhead watched Laura writhe around for a few moments more before the razor sharp weapons started to retract into her skin. She slid forward, aware they'd retracted in the real world as well, and ran her fingers along the metal. At the base of her spine, there was a button. Gently Jean pressed it. The restraint vanished completely. "See... hey... come here," she reached out and touched Laura's arm.

 

Laura was aware it was a dream now. But the tears wouldn't stop coming. She looked at Jean, considered running from her. But dreams didn't really work that way. Her stomach clenched. Her chest tightened. Some wave just kept rolling over her and she was so... so... something.

 

"Laura... you're feeling grief," Jean explained. "You're sad. And mad. And missing the people you love. I know those feelings." She felt her own chest clench a bit. "If you let me, I can help guide you through it," she offered. "The first step is that you should come to me."

 

Laura started to cough and choke, the tears starting to fall faster, larger. Her chest grew heavier. She couldn't breath. Each breath turned into a sob. Her face was wet, her lips soaked in salt water. She wiped at her skin with her sleeve.

 

"Laura... you called him Daddy..." Jean said quietly. "He must have loved you very much to... I watched that memory and he knew what was going to happen and did it anyway."

 

Laura's sobs grew louder, more painful. Her throat hurt. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe and panic started to set in and she was angry with herself, with her body. Furious! She stood up and gripped her tiny hands into fists, growling, the tears still coming. She threw the television against the wall, glass shattering. She flipped a table, and tore the wood top in half with her bare hands, growling and roaring like a wild animal.

 

"Laura." Jean glared, standing up, putting down her foot. "That's enough!" She scolded, devising an Xavier to appear into the dream. 

 

But Laura got hold of him and he had claws through his chest, blood everywhere, limp and vacant of his shell. She started to cry harder. As Xavier's wheelchair pushed his dead body, Nate turned up on the ground. Then Gabriela tied to a chair. Laura balled her fist and punched through a wall, blood shooting out of the whole, her body coated in it. She slunk down, unable to hold herself up any longer. Her knees were wobbling, her head ached between her eyes, and her chest ached like never before. 

 

Jean looked stunned. She slowly approached from behind, bending down to Laura's subconscious self. She rubbed her back. The little girl curled deeper into a ball, shaped like an egg, face hidden. She sat down beside her, pulling her into her lap, holding her tight. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm here," she rocked her rubbing her back.

 

Laura choked out another cry of "Daddy," burrying her face into Jean Grey's shoulder. This felt... different. Not uncomfortable like when Bobby tried to hug her in Transigen. She'd hurt him that day. But Jean's hug made her relax into her, made the tears flow out easier. Her chest still clenched but the warmth of her body was soothing. She cried. And cried. Her nose ran. Another strangled "Daddy," slid out, her body shaking and muscles spasming as Jean held her.

 

"I... I miss him too," Jean told her softly. "He was family to us too. We knew him for so long... I'm so sorry, Laura." Jean leaned the little girl back and wiped her face with her sleeve, eyes on her's. "He loved you very much, even if he didn't say that. I'm like Charles. And I saw your memories. He knew what was going to happen but wanted to save you," she started to tear up and rubbed Laura's cheek. "Remember that. He..." she paused. "Logan didn't do that for just anyone," she met Laura's eyes. "It's going to hurt for the rest of your life but if we talk about it, we can make it a small hurt instead of a big hurt."

 

Laura felt herself unable to breath again and curled back into Jean, her choking sobs leading to another coughing fit. "Why does it hurt?" She cried after a minute. "I'm not supposed to hurt. I heal," she whimpered, her body tensing, making a fist.

 

Jean loosened her grip immediately. "It's a different kind of hurt," she said softly. "It means you're human..."

 

Laura backed away from her. "I can't... he said..." Laura's mind went to the memory of herself and Logan at the outpost when he woke. 'Everyone I care about ends up hurt' he'd said. She looked up at Jean. "I'm him. I'll hurt you. Don't get close," she whimpered, backing away.

 

"That's not true, Laura. It's not. Not for you. And Logan didn't hurt us, other things did, " she said softly, tucking the girl's hair behind her ear gently. "Are you ready to wake up yet? Scott is waiting for you for your gas station trip," she said softly. "And when you get back I'd like to talk some more." Jean kept her eyes.

 

Laura nodded. She gave another little sob, but then found herself in bed, pillow soaked through, body sweaty and cold at the same time. The real Jean was in a chair beside her bed. 


	5. Chapter 5

They gave her some clothes but they weren't the one's that she had from the time she spent with Logan and Charles. But she accepted it, just curious as to when and if she'd get her clothes back. She still had the shirt, but it was relatively unwearable, coated in blood in places, holey in others. But it smelled faintly of him. Last night she'd folded it and placed it in a box Scott finally broke down and gave her. She was aware of it in the drawer beside her bed, though she didn't touch it.

 

The pair of jeans had fleece inside, cuddling her legs, soft like rabbit fur. She buttoned them and pulled on the top layers she'd been given. Apparently it was cold here. And they didn't know enough about her body to prepare correctly. And she didn't really know either. So she pulled on the tank top, the t-shirt, the thermal, and then the sweatshirt and hopped into her boots. There was also a hat, a coat, gloves, a scarf. But she left them. She pulled her fingers through her shiny dark brown hair a minute, catching a knot.

 

Jean entered a minute later with a hair brush and some spray. She looked her over. "You look so much better without all that extra blood," she said quietly with a kind smile. She sat on the bed, watching her. "Come here, so I can help get your hair untangled."

 

Laura slunk over and sat on the bed in front of the red haired woman. She closed her eyes, feeling the mist coat each strand and smelling the fruity scent. She took a deep breath and felt the brush go through then get stuck. But Jean gently pulled it out and started to work from the bottom. 

 

"Thank you for that letter from Charles," she said softly. "It meant a lot."

 

"De nada," answered Laura, reverting back to Spanish. She didn't want to talk. Maybe if she pretended she couldn't speak English believe her and let her alone. She traced the seam of her pants, eyes cast down as Jean worked out the knots slowly. 

 

"He mentioned you," she said softly. She leaned in and started behind Laura's ears, feeling the little girl tense and flinch. Jean backed off a minute. "What's wrong? Are your ears sensitive?"

 

She shook her head no and remained silent, still stiffening as the brush went through again. Memories of the doctor when she was bad, putting that thing around her neck. His hand was always near her ear. She shifted uncomfortably and scrunched up her shoulders, breathing heavily.

 

"What's wrong?" Jean asked quietly, before remembering the apparatus from her dream. She gently pushed against Laura's mind, slowly remembering the image of her encased in the Vibranium restraint. "Is it this?"

 

Laura nodded, still silent. She remembered X-24, jumping on his back when he stabbed Xavier, watching him kill Nate when he tried to help her, locking her in that device and carrying her like a suitcase. She tensed more. 

 

"I promise we won't do that to you," the redhead said quietly. "Ever. Sometimes Scott doesn't have much tolerance for attitude but he'd never do that to you either. You can trust us." 

 

Laura remembered Logan laying in her lap while she drove, the way the turns made her hold him closer, his skin clammy and body being poisoned slowly from the inside. She remembered the bullet, the way she'd taken it from him. It was almost like telling Jean, but not out loud. It was the same communication she had with Charles. She turned to look at the woman as she started to braid her hair.

 

"Logan was sick?" Jean asked. "Why didn't he tell anyone?" Her brows knitted together. 

 

Laura remembered pleading with the doctor on her hands and knees, crying, asking him to save her father. The doctor said he needed to rest, that he was being poisoned by the metal in his body. A tear slid down and she turned back around.

 

"Is that how... I just assumed," Jean tried to connect the dots.

 

" Su cuerpo no podía curar." She took a deep breath. Slowly she dropped her head. She looked up at the ceiling. "I buried him. Can we go get him?" She asked quietly. 

 

"Laura... I..." Jean took a deep breath. "I don't think we should. Not for a while.  Crossing the border again would be dangerous." 

 

Laura nodded as Jean tied off her hair with an elastic. She scoffed and pushed away the bow that she tried to put in with furrowed brows. "Ewww. No," she looked up.

 

"Not your style?" Jean asked with a grin. She tilted her head inquisitively. It was the first time Laura seemed to have complaint, besides what Scott saw with the shirt which was understandable. 

 

Laura shook her head no. She gave a half smirk after a moment, standing up and turning to look at the lady again.

 

"Why don't you look in this bin? I picked up a lot of different things when we found out you were coming to try to make you children feel more like people. We don't want this to be like Transigen in any way." She opened the rubbermaid bin, giving it a shake, looking up at her.

 

Laura took a deep breath, peering inside. She tilted her head. There was a lot of pink and some bows and glittery things. She looked up at Jean skeptically, before slowly inching her hand forward and in. She dug around for a moment before giving an exhale. It wasn't a trap. Her eyes lit up a little when she found a studded leather headband, pulling it out of the container and turning it over in her fingers.

 

"Do you like that one?" Jean asked with a grin. It was a little curious that she'd pick that, considering. It looked a little rock and roll for her age, but if that was what she liked, it'd help her pick clothing for her from now on. The pants looked a little tight, shirts a bit big. She did the best she could with the information given.

 

Laura nodded. "Can I wear it?" she raised a brow, tilting her head.

 

"Of course. Come here," she motioned Laura closer. Standing, Jean carefully pushed the headband into Laura's dark hair, smoothing it down softly. She noticed Laura didn't pull away or turn into a ball of muscle. Instead, in a few moments of smoothing, she felt two little arms lace around her loosely.

A few moments passed before Laura pulled away, taking a few steps back and looking up. She blinked up at her. "Thank you," she said, touching the braid again. She ran her left hand over her right forearm, gripping it a bit nervously.

 

"No problem. You can keep that one. I'll look for some more like it," she answered. "Scott's waiting." She gave a small smile. 

 

Laura nodded. She stretched a bit, taking a deep breath before turning toward the door. Pulling it open, she could hear the sounds of the other kids playing throughout the lower level and froze a moment, pursing her lips. After a few moments she made her way out, but the thought of staying in the room did cross her mind. 

 

Scott was waiting at the end of the hall. Laura could see him from here. She shoved her hands in her pockets, wandering toward him. A few of her friends ran by with chirps of "Hey Laura!" in a game of tag. She felt the corners of her lips twitch upwards but didn't let the grin occupy. Standing so close to Scott Summers in the daylight, she suddenly felt really small. Last night he had seemed a lot smaller. She stopped at his side and looked up at his rose quartz visor, head tilting to the side.

 

"Ready to go?" He asked, looking down at her, jaw set. He regretted making this promise, to be honest. Laura seemed unpredictable, the most unpredictable of all of the children he'd interacted with. She reminded him so much of Logan, he just hoped she knew how to lay low as well as the other man did. 

 

She nodded up at him, taking her hands out of her pockets, still examining his face. She shifted from hip to hip.

 

He put his hand into his pocket and pulled something out, bending down to her level. He watched her back up and his mouth curved downward. It was going to take a lot to gain her trust. Slowly he took her arm, feeling her tense. "Hey. I have something for you. I'm not going to hurt you, calm down," he said softly. He planted the IPod into her hand, keeping her eyes. Reaching into his other  pocket he pulled out a pair of headphones, dangling them in front of her.

 

Laura gave an involuntary smile. She eyed the IPod in her hand and spun the touchpad, pressing play on the first song that came up. Suddenly, his touch on her arm didn't matter and she relaxed under his touch. The sound echoed in the halls, and she gave a small quiet laugh.

 

Scott was smiling now. Something about it felt like a small victory, like an interception in a football game. He stroked her arm through her jacket and layers a moment, and when she caught his eye again, he tilted his head. "Told you I'd fix it."

 

Laura held out her hand for the headphones. She felt him gingerly deposit them into her hand, his skin brushing against her own. The internal cringe came back and her body shuddered but she allowed the touch, telling herself he wasn't going to hurt her. But her body was shivering. 

 

Scott languidly reached both hands out, also shaking slightly in fear of those claws, and placed his palms on her bicepts. He rubbed up and down, creating a little friction to hopefully warm her up. "What're you thinking about, kiddo?" His voice was different today, less tired and gravelly. 

 

The warmth of his touch, the feeling that passed through her despite the memories, she wanted the comfort. The shaking continued though. She didn't know how to say that, or how to tell them that she was afraid of the flashbacks. The men in the facility hadn't been particularly kind to her. And she didn't want to hurt anyone. Jean was easy. Charles made her feel like she knew her already before they'd met. But Scott was different. And the thought of Charles made her heart ache again. Her chest started to tighten. She tried so hard to breathe through it. Her eyes filled and brimmed, glossy and wet.

 

"Hey. How about a hug?" Scott continued rubbing. "It won't fix anything but it might help a little." He started to get worried. He could see Jean at the end of the hall, moving toward them. He could feel her lock on mentally, warning about the nightmare, sharing the break through. 

 

Laura stepped in closer and could feel Scott's heat around her smaller body but something about his smell sent her deeper into a memory, collapsing against him. She was back in Transigen, and they were preparing her for another surgery. There was a man there, and she was tied down to a bed, he was forcing this white creamy medicine into her arm through a needle and she was struggling. 

 

Scott felt her go limp. His heart dropped and he picked her up, supporting her. The metal in her bones made her heavier, but she was still relatively small. He tilted her back, worriedly, checking to be sure she was breathing, rubbing her back. "Laura... hey... come on... it's okay... what happened?" he said it all rather quickly as he checked her over, his own chest starting to clench.

 

Jean hurried to them, and a few of the children were now at their heels. Bobby looked up, "is she okay?" He murmured, tugging Scott's shirt. 

 

Jean slowly slid into Laura's mind, watching the memory, feeling the pain of the medication. It burned going in, and Laura was thrashing on the table. She could smell something familiar on the man in the room, but she wasn't sure from where. "Scott, put her down..." she demanded quietly as it dawned on her.

 

Rictor was close now. "Give her to me," he said, holding out his arms. Scott reluctantly handed her over, confused. 

 

Jean rubbed Scott's arm a moment. "It's your cologne. Go get a shower," she said softly. She met his eyes.

 

"What happened?" Scott asked. "What happened to her?" His mouth was in a frown as he watched Rictor with her, Bobby lingering beside them. 

 

"She had a flashback because of your cologne. It matches someone from the facility." Jean shuddered at the general outcry of worry in the building and shut her abilities down. "Go shower."

 

He nodded. "I didnt know Wolverines could pass out. Make sure she's okay," he said softly, before hurrying off, thinking maybe she was lucky that Logan smelled like cigars and liquor most of the time. 


End file.
